Previous Challenge Entry (Level 1 – Beginner)
Topic: Confident (07/05/07)
TITLE: The Day My Wings Were Cut
By Dianne Janak
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Disclaimer: Before reading this and possibly becoming a tad alarmed, let me put your heart at ease. I am now in recovery, so you can relax. The world is no longer at risk.
I wish I could tell you when and where and how the plan was birthed. When Superman was popular back in my early days, I dreamed of being his female counterpart. My name would be Superdame. Not wanting to fly with a cape the way he did, I had imagined golden wings. It seemed so much more feminine and would alleviate the problem of mid air perspiration.
My mission would be to take on the responsibility of fixing broken people, rescuing victims from their own blind spots, mending their foolish ways to set them on a path to true freedom and happiness. My goal was admittedly lofty, knowing it would take some time, but I would be relentless until the world changed into a happier place.
I needed people to fix in order to validate my existence. I didnít have to look far for toxic, broken, and needy people. They seemed to be everywhere. As I began to bond with them, I was so relieved that I didnít have to go through life with all those blind spots, flaws, and annoying habits. As soon as I perceived an imperfect person in my path, I went to work. I learned to rescue in secret finding out through experience that most people seem to live in denial of their need for me.
At times I encountered conflict and tension. . I know you may find this hard to believe, but some people actually felt a little hostile about my pure and wholesome intent to fix them. Alas, blind people seem oblivious to the big picture. The nasty remarks and angry reactions were a little disturbing, but I got used to it. Adding martyrdom to nobility, I was quite focused though my people projects seemed unaware that I was on a mission to save them from themselves.
Gradually I began to notice a dark cloud forming on my self appointed mission. Putting up a false front, I hid the fact that I had been praying and asking God to show me why joy had eluded me so. I knew I needed joy for strength. Trying so hard to change others was wearing me out. So I turned to God for an answer. Too many times I didnít like what He was saying to me. Things like ďtaking the log out of my own eye first, not judging or I will be judged accordingly.Ē Rather convicting and uncomfortable suggestions like that made me shiver.
One day however I decided to actually listen and obey. My life was transformed. God simply told me to look within my own heart first. I did and was appalled. I could only stand to look at it for a moment. Seeing it broke me into tears of repentance, agony and shame. My own heart was nothing comparable to those I had been trying to rescue. It was a million times worse.
That was the day I asked God to cut my wings. I realized that I was the one who needed changing, and no on could do it but me. I had been interfering with Godís business my whole life and neglecting my own. Itís odd in a funny sort of way that when I meet people now I see possibilities and potential instead of projects to be fixed. My name is Grace, and I am a recovering fixaholic. I will remain in the process of recovery my whole life. That is all I know for now. And for that I am confident.
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